


Finding the truth

by InNeedOfInspiration



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, capwidow - Freeform, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:06:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InNeedOfInspiration/pseuds/InNeedOfInspiration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to the 'Lie to Me' OS. Please, read it first to understand this one.<br/>Takes place right after Steve and Natasha's truth game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding the truth

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! As promised, here's what happens next. I'm not really sure about it. Leave a comment to let me know what you think. I hope you'll enjoy it, anyway.  
> And for the new readers, second chance before it's too late: go read the first part before going further down. I can promise you won't regret it ;)

Her lips escaped without any warning, and she vanished as swiftly as she had been taught to do, walking back into the shadow, leaving him numb and confused. He was both drunk and insatiable for the taste of her mouth. His heart was begging for more, his reason was scolding him he had had enough.

He watched her from afar for the rest of the night, his heartbeat racing every time she appeared in his line of sight; a lump tightening in his throat every time he caught a glimpse of Bruce. All shades of tacit smiles were exchanged that night. Banner smiled at her, beaming and shy; she smiled back, modest and apologetic. When he smiled at him, Steve would twist the corners of his mouth, shameful, guilty and perhaps envious, as well. Natasha had made her choice, it seemed. She had probably already labelled their kiss on the terrace a mistake and thrown their moment into oblivion.

When Ultron attacked, Steve instinctively reached for Natasha. He found her to have already reached for Bruce and hidden him with her behind the bar. After the fight, after every defective robot had been taken down, his eyes searched for Nat and check up on her. He knew she managed herself, like she always did, but still he had to check.

The party was over. The Avengers gathered in the office to talk till the very early hours of the morning, then headed to their private rooms. Steve did not sleep. He spent the last few hours of the night staring at the ceiling; thinking of Ultron, haunted by Natasha.

The first battle against Ultron and his two allies was a failure. The robot had escaped them, the Hulk had been released into the city, their minds had been played.

Returning to the time he came from, walking among his fellow soldiers, seeing Peggy; his hallucination affected him more than he would let his teammates know. And from what he could see, they were all shaken up, too. The Avengers all walked out, bemused, bitter, defeated. At least, Barton got to walk 'home'. Hawkeye was the only one who could boast about having one.

Steve had lost the notion of 'home' a long time ago. He was the only one lost in his boundless solitude. Clint had his family. Stark had Pepper. Thor didn't really belong in this world either, but he had his realm, his people, his friends. Far away, he had a place he could call home. And here, he had Jane. Banner and Romanoff had each other.

He saw her go upstairs to have a shower despite the fact Banner hadn't come down yet. This simple glimpse was enough to rise a sour taste in the back of his mouth. He rushed outside and almost bumped into Mrs Barton.

"Is there anything I can do to help outside?" he asked with a bitter smile that barely concealed the stern tone of his voice.

"Well..." she started hesitantly, "I thought I could make a fire tonight. We might need some wood."

"Thanks ma'am," he said gratefully, racing down the stairs towards the closest axe.

"Hmm...a couple of logs should be enough," she exclaimed from the porch.

He chopped more than a couple of logs. First five, then ten, then twenty, then he eventually stopped counting when his mind shut down enough to block the vision of Banner and Romanoff in the bedroom. He focused on the hallucination of Peggy instead and the dance his mind had entirely fabricated from his wildest -and saddest- fantasies. This hurt him too, but he could cope with this pain better. This was until Stark came and saved him from all this mental nuisance. For a short moment. Only for a short moment. Until the word 'home' was uttered and made him snap.

Later that night, after Fury left, Steve went sit in the chair out on the porch.

He heard faint footsteps he could recognize anywhere come onto the porch. She sat on the chair next to him and looked at the sky, too. The orientation and proximity of the two chairs indicated that was probably a habit of the Bartons to spend the evening outside together while the kids were asleep.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she eventually broke the silence.

"About what?" he asked as he seemed incapable of gathering enough strength to turn and look at her.

"About what you saw in your vision," she said earnestly. He could tell she wanted to comfort him, "We all need to share."

Those last words burned him inside his chest.

"Did you share yours with Banner?" he asked then bit his tongue right after. He dreaded the inevitability of the answer.

"Yes," she replied with a whispering voice.

It upset him more than he had mentally prepared for. He swallowed the lump in his throat, locking his gaze into the darkness of the sky.

"Because you value him more?" he asked, slightly shaking his head, realizing how little he had changed from being that skinny boy from Brooklyn. Serum or no serum.

"Because I don't want you to value me any less," she murmured, "there are things you shouldn't know about me."

She had just spoken a foreign language to him. As much as he semantically understood them, he could not comprehend them.

"I want to know all about you," he murmured back with the most genuine selflessness, "I'm not afraid of what I could find out. I know what your value is."

"I know," she said matter-of-factly, "but I can't take that risk. That's how weak I am."

He heard her smirk lightly.

"You're not weak," he denied strongly.

"So I thought until tonight," she whispered.

They went silent again, listening to the sound of the leaves quivering under the touch of the wind. She didn't want to tell him more, he had heard enough to understand her point. He wanted to fight it, he wanted to convince her she was wrong to feel this way but he also knew her silence meant she had ended this conversation. She had preferred to confide in to Bruce and he accepted it. He disapproved strongly of her reasons but he respected her choice.

He wanted to ask her if that meant she had officially chosen Banner but it was like implying she was a player. He knew she would never even think about playing with their feelings. He didn't doubt she would let him know one way or another.

"Whatever she showed you in that vision, it does not define you," Natasha said with a calm but stern voice.

He exhaled loudly.

"How can you be so sure of it? You don't even know what I saw," he said whilst two of his fingers started to tap lightly against the wicker armrest in a nervous twitch.

"Because I know what your value is," she echoed his words, "and I trust you to find a way to defeat this narcissistic can and its two minions."

If only it was that easy. He could have believed her words this morning, but not tonight. Not after finding out he was a prisoner of his past.

"I'm afraid I'll fail you like I failed anyone I ever cared for" he gasped, reminiscing the fake memories from his vision, recalling dear memories from his former life. He shook his head and regained his composure, "I'm afraid we can't defeat Ultron; not without suffering loss in our side."

 _'Not suffering some loss in our line,'_ he had been close to blurt out. He had fought hard enough and lost too much to learn when human sacrifices were awaiting him.

He felt her fingertips graze the skin of his forearm as they reached for his hand. Her fingers naturally slid between his like they had been genetically made to intertwine with each other. Two even separated parts which were finally becoming whole again.

She didn't have to say a word; she had just let him know how much she trusted him to lead them right and to win this fight by clutching his hand in sign of faith.

Despite the strictly amicable perspective that this gesture revealed, he chose to push it aside and focused on the moment. He held her hand gently and it soothed him deep in his flesh. This night on the porch overshadowed the blindingly painful day he had gone through. His warrior heart had finally found peace...in the palm of her hand.

The next morning, before everybody had gathered for breakfast in the living room, Natasha made him swear to focus on the mission no matter what might happen to her.

"If something happens to me, promise me you will not let me be a distraction to your mission," she said firmly, standing tall and square before him.

He opened his mouth, ready to protest, but she hushed him by gently pressing her hands on each side of his face.

"Do not let me distract you. You won't fail me; I'll save me, Rogers." Black Widow was back, and she had orders. "Like I always did."

Her large green eyes dived into his and submitted him to her will with undisputable arguments that needn't be said. He had no doubt she was the most resourceful and dangerous member of his team with the most dangerous skills. Another thing of hers he had seen up close.

Her hands dropped off his face and left a void then she took a step back before his hearing had finished transmitting the electrical signal to his brain that someone was coming in the room. Not only her brain had time to do it, but it had also identified the unexpected visitor before getting a visual. Bruce.

Natasha flicked an eye one last time in his direction as conclusive note to their discussion then she went sit at the kitchen table.

"I've lost Natasha. Do you see Natasha?," Clint alarmingly asked in his hearing piece.

He allowed panic to overwhelm for one second. A miserly instant for a man claiming to have feelings, a priceless eternity for Captain America on an uncontrollable full speed train full of civilians. One second would have to do. And then, just as he promised, he muffled the screaming anguish in his head. He gagged it with the unshakable faith he had in the Black Widow's survival instinct.

 _'Do as Natasha said,'_ he mentally hammered himself. And soon it worked.

"If you got the package, go," he ordered firmly to Clint.

His mind was quiet, now. Not entirely, though. Never entirely. Nat would just never have to know about it.

Natasha obviously didn't disappoint. He eventually saw her again fighting against a robot, strong and tenacious as if she hadn't just come through hours of captivity. He jolted his shield at her and ran up to her side.

Time was a privilege they couldn't afford at this moment. A smile had to suffice to convey all his relief. All his pride.

"You shouldn't have let Banner come to my rescue. I was doing perfectly fine by my own."

Guilty. He had deferred to Banner his rightfully own opportunity to put his self-loathing on hold and act like a hero. Not to Hulk, the Avenger; but to Bruce Banner, the physicist. He had given them an opportunity to enjoy one moment of peace for their reunion before going back to war.

"Rescue?" he smiled teasingly, "We needed an extra couple of hands up here on the field."

She smirked at him with the corner of her mouth then crushed the crawling robot with a strong kick. They parted and went about their business.

Standing on the pile of burned and dusty remnants of the city, Steve was thinking of a way to save  _everyone._ The civilians, his teammates, his newly reformed allies. And the Vision. Everything that wasn't metal... and evil.

The blue sky, the steady clouds. He could feel the stillness of the landscape getting into him. Who would have believed they were fighting the biggest menace to humankind only a few minutes before?

Natasha came stand by his side.

"These people are going nowhere. If Stark finds a way to blow this rock-"

"I am not leaving this rock with one civilian on it," he said determinedly.

"Bruce left," she retorted.

He turned to her to probe how she felt about it. She seemed disappointed but overall serene.

"Why didn't you?" he asked, "I know you want a normal life. And you deserve it."

"He asked me to," she confessed without difficulty, "but I remembered what you told me the other night on the terrace. You asked me why I ran away."

He shook his head.

"Nat, I was just bitter that night, I didn't-"

"You were right," she cut him off, "I run away. That's what I was taught to do and that's an easy pattern I fell into...I don't want to do this anymore. Not when someone taught me and made me want to stay."

He blinked, confused, then looked at her with an unsure quizzical stare. Her eyes were gazing into the horizon. Thoughtful. In peace with herself.

"Plus where else am I gonna get a view like this?" she mused out loud.

He looked at her with the utmost pride. Proud to have chosen her as an ally, a comrade, a friend, a lover.

And this was how she had chosen. Choosing him while also choosing her best version of herself. There was an immeasurable beauty in it.

"Even if I am to die a hero today," she added with a smirk, "I'm ready to risk my ticket to heaven by getting one last kiss."

The intensity of her gaze, the genuine sparkle in her eyes, the naughty shadow behind which openly insinuated she was ready for more than just an innocent kiss filled him with the satisfaction of seeing his legendary patience finally overcome. For the first time ever in his life, it wasn't too late. For the first time ever, he hadn't missed his chance. Yes, even if that meant dying this very same day on that rock.

 _"Are you sure about that, Romanoff? I know relics that are younger than him. Me included,"_ they both heard the voice of Fury in their ear piece, watching in relief as the formerly S.H.I.E.L.D hellicarrier came into view.

Looked like he would live long enough to see tomorrow.

"Nick Fury, you son of a bitch," he smiled.

_"Whoa ho ho! You kiss your mother with that mouth?"_

 


End file.
